


The Beginning And The End

by taichara



Category: Gundam Wing Frozen Teardrop
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:11:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can you pull the trigger on something that shares the pain from your own past?</p>
<p>Cyrene's about to discover that it's not always that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning And The End

Under normal circumstances, one of the last places Cyrene felt any desire to visit was the Lanigreen Republic. This was the case for any number of reasons, up to and including not being inclined to be arrested for 'impersonating a high official of the government' -- and, he noted wryly, that could be one of two different 'high officials', to say nothing of two different governments. Oh, how the irony did come to bite him back there.

_I can only assume they've never been compared, let alone somehow seen together. No nice diplomatic talks. ... Assuming it's physically possible to begin with._

Possible or not, it was high time he investigated the stranger of those two individuals. The intel he'd been passed along suggested that this would be the ideal time to see if the rumours were true. 

Not that he doubted. Lanigreen certainly had the technology, and he'd heard the whispers before he'd left the Federation. It _could_ be done. 

The question was: _had_ it been done?

_I wouldn't be surprised if Noinheim was involved, somehow, some way._

Even after the terraforming, there was precious little cloud cover to be found on Mars even on the best of days. Long before he'd reached the Lanigreen border he'd given up on using clouds to conceal his approach -- and, besides, this time he wanted to be spotted. The moment Tallgeese Heaven closed in on a hundred klicks of the border, he dropped her down through the feeble wisps, wings flaring. Somewhere down below, in the patchwork of rusty sands and the pale green of terraformed growth, should be his target ... 

_Newsfeeds reported there'd been a skirmish here not even one standard day ago ..._

A skirmish that Lanigreen's decorated Major-General had been a part of. Cyrene's hands tightened on Heaven's controls; said Major General had to still be in the area, wrapping up the last few details.

It was, after all, what he would have done.

-*-

Like a deadly, bloody shadow, Epyon lofted over the edges of Martian scarps, down the runnels of valleys slowly being overtaken by greenery. The survey was nearly complete --

The battle the day before had been a success. The rebels had been subdued, and there had been no loss of manpower. A few units were damaged, but nothing that couldn't be replaced. All told, Zechs felt that he could allow himself some small inkling of victory.

_It's a vast, vast improvement over the years back on Earth -- !!!_

Epyon's System roared a warning; barely a second later, the cockpit monitors erupted with readouts ... and, hot on the heels of the first sensory outburst, visuals. A massive mobile suit was descending -- quickly! -- and headed straight for him. Zechs took in the images and swore.

_Tallgeese. That looks like the Tallgeese -- but --_

Tallgeese Flugel, perhaps. But even though the unknown machine had the broad angelic wings of Flugel, Tallgeese had never -- had _never!_ \-- thrown off that much sheer power. The suit rode down on a backwash like starfire, wrapped in a burningly bright corona, and something Zechs couldn't name made a frission of fear ripple through him. 

And anger followed hot on fear's heels. He felt the System's bloodthirsty approval as he drove Epyon skyward to meet the apparition head-on; the survey could wait --

-*-

_And here he comes._

Cyrene held Heaven on position, refusing to budge or to draw weapons. Not yet. He wanted to see, with his own eyes, what Lanigreen had created. Eyes narrowing behind the all-concealing wedge of his glasses, he reached for comms control.

Before he could open a channel, his own voice growled from Heaven's internal speakers.

_[This is Major-General Zechs Merquise of the Lanigreen Republic of Mars. Unidentified mobile suit, you are approaching Lanigreen sovereign territory ...]_

_They did it. They actually did it._

Heaven's scans confirmed it; the Epyon, that Epyon, was crawling with nano-generators, concentrated on the cockpit and controlling systems of the suit, posssibly -- probably? -- integrated with the Epyon System itself. 

He didn't even bother to listen to the rest of the warning, bringing his hand down on the comms control with a crash.

"My name is Cyrene Wind, _Major-General Zechs Merquise_ , and I think you have a hell of a lot to explain to me. Now."

Epyon jerked sidewise, a startled dragon losing altitude, and Cyrene smiled wolfishly.

-*-

_What? How --?!_

That was him! That sounded like himself! Only he and the federation's President Peacecraft shared vocal timbres -- which the Republic had already explained to him -- this was impossible!

_Whoever this is, they're a threat to the Republic --_

His anger flared higher, and Epyon answered, shifting form to stand on its own two feet, sabre held high in warning at the looming pale bulk of the strange Tallgeese.

"I will not allow you to threaten this nation, whoever you really are. Arm yourself and show me what you're made of before I defeat you."

_[Why should I show you what I'm made of, when that question is one you should answer. Do you exist outside of that mobile suit, 'Zechs Merquise'? If I demanded you show your face to me, could you even comply if you wanted to, or do you even exist at all?]_

_[Did the Republic give you a nanite reflection of my body to match the rest, or are you nothing but a ghost in the machine?]_

He choked, mind blanking with outrage and confusion and the bitter metallic pang of something very closely related to fear.

"You -- how dare --"

The only response from his unknown assailant -- 'Cyrene Wind' -- was laughter. Wild, angry laughter, a sound that prickled at him and made the System flare with the drive to attack.

_[Arm myself? I'll do that, Major-General.]_

... And then he felt a seeping agony tug at the very fabric of his being. 

The world spun, turned into a thousand thousand flensing knives. Epyon reeled drunkenly in the air.

He focused on comms.

"You coward! _This_ is your answer?! Not even a clean death, a soldier's death?

" _You COWARD--!!_ "

-*

Cyrene's hand hovered over Heaven's controls, his fingertips brushing the studs that would unleash a very final, very fatal -- if the word could be used -- volley in less than a heartbeat. Heaven's Ring put paid to _any_ nanomachines it was unleashed against.

_It should certainly spell the end of you, isn't that right, Major-General?_

The first stage was already underway; Heaven hummed, vibrating almost, as she gathered the power. There was no need to rush, so he hadn't pre-prepped the system.

Then the scream -- familiar, too familiar, like a shard of mirrored glass stabbed through his soul -- erupted from the still-open channel.

He knew that pain.

He knew that stab of betrayed outrage.

He knew it -- had felt it --

_... He is me._

_I ..._

_I've ..._

His hand dropped as if numbed.

-*-

The assault ended as swiftly and without warning as it had begun.

Between one second and the next, the agony dissipated, and Epyon righted itself in the air; before his head could clear, System was reporting the Tallgeese variant as fleeing straight skyward, too fast, much too fast to pursue.

He didn't care. He didn't know it was _possible_ to hurt like that. And Epyon's analysis made the memory of that pain even worse in hindsight.

_This 'Cyrene' ... what kind of technology --_

_That's dangerous. Much too dangerous. I need to report back immediately._

_... He can't be from the Federation, with that kind of tech. President Peacecraft would never allow something with that kind of power to fall into someone else's hands --_

Zechs paused. Was is possible that this had actually been Milliardo Peacecraft, under some kind of alias? The concept wasn't unknown, after all ...

_Urgh. I need to report in and recover before I speculate too wildly._

Still reeling with aftershocks of the assault, Zechs shifted Epyon down to dragon mode with a thought and laid in an auto-course for the capital. He didn't trust his own skill just then --

\-- and he had a great deal to think about on the journey home.


End file.
